Adventure Magazine Cover — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

14 jarred from the report of the heavy buck- shot load. The distance was great enough to give the charge of buckshot a chance to spread to a maximum degree, and none of the leaden pellets struck the mark. But just the same the three shadowy figures be- came prone objects. Again came the long spurt of orange flame from the door of the express car, and more buckshot whined through the weeds. “What kinda whisky was that yuh bought?” queried the voice of Johnny Grant from among the weeds. “Well, if you think I’m goin’ t’ let any train crew heave buckshot at me, yo’re crazy,” declared Eskimo Swensen, and pro- ceeded to shoot at the glow from the express car door. “H’rah f’r us!”” whooped Oyster, and un- limbered two shots from his six-shooter. His aim was a bit uncertain and it is doubt- ful if either bullet even hit the car. Wham! Skee-e-e-e-e! Another handful of buckshot mowed the grass. Three six- shooters blazed back at the flash of the shot- gun, and their owners shifted locations as fast as possible, because those last buckshot came too close for comfort. Then came a lull. In fact the shooting ceased entirely. The three men in the grass saw the light go out in the car. There was no noise, except the panting of the engine, its headlight cutting a pathway of silver across the Arizona hills. Minute after min- ute passed. It was too dark to see an ob- ject against the car or engine, and the three men in the grass did not see the engineer and fireman crawl along to the engine and sneak into the cab. ‘““Where’s that murderer with the riot-gun?”’ queried Eskimo Swensen. He was anxious to continue the battle. ‘“Sh-h-h-h-h!”’ cautioned Johnny. “‘Some- body comin’.”’ They could see the vague bulk of a man coming along the track. Then it passed the end of the express car, blending in with it. The three cowboys could hear the crunch of gravel, as the newcomer walked along the car, and they heard him climb inside. Came the tiny glow of a match, the snappy bark of a dog. A few moments later came the thud of two bodies hitting the gravel. ‘“T whipped him, Geronimo,” they heard a voice say. W. C. TUTTLE “My ——!” snorted Eskimo. “TI thought Geronimo was dead or in jail.”’ Then the engine awoke and the part of a train started backing down the track, but there was no more shooting. Once away from that immediate spot the engineer put on more power, and went roaring back toward where they had cut loose from the rest of the train. The three cowboys sat up in the grass and watched the dim figures of a man and a dog, heading toward Blue Wells, while from far down the railroad came the shrill whistle of the locomotive. Johnny Grant got to his feet, and was joined by Eskimo and Oyster. The shoot- ing had sobered them considerably, and when Eskimo produced the bottle Johnny shoved it aside. “Aw, to with the stuff!’ he said. “T’ve been seein’ too many things already. Let’s go home before we get killed for bein’ on earth.”’ “T dunno,” said Eskimo, after a deep pull at the bottle. ‘It seems like anythin’ is liable to happen around here, but I never expected to be ambushed by a danged train.” They crawled back through the barbed- wire right-of-way fence, and headed for home, too muddled to do much wondering what it was all about. The train passed Jim Legg before he reached Blue Wells, and he got there just after the announcement of the hold-up. A crowd had gathered at the depot, and Jim Legg heard some one saying that about thirty thousand had been stolen. He heard some one question Chet Le Moyne, who admitted that the Santa Rita pay-roll had been on the train. Men had gone to notify the sheriff. Jim Legg did not realize that they were speaking about the train he had fell out of, even when the disheveled express messenger made his ap- pearance. He had been picked up along the track. The engine crew were offering all the in- formation they had to interested listeners. “There were three men,” said the en- gineer. ‘Three that you saw,”’ amended the mes- senger, who was nursing a black eye, several facial bruises and a bad limp. “The fourth one tangled with mein the car. That’s how the door happened to be open. He got on at Encinas. I ordered him off the car and COMmMiCcooo Cc S (C@